


that I'm only holding on by a thin, thin thread

by JABBER2005



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Overdosing, Self-Harm, Seriously Sad, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, technodepression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JABBER2005/pseuds/JABBER2005
Summary: Technoblade knew that people would be there for him, but it was still too much. Everything was always too much, and he could only think of one way to bring peace.TW: all in the tags I believe, please let me know if I missed something.
Relationships: none my guy, thank u for asking
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	that I'm only holding on by a thin, thin thread

**Author's Note:**

> ayeee, this is a vent fic, and in no way reflects any of the creators in this fanfiction. Please let me know if there is any triggers in the tags that I missed and do not read this if you are having these thoughts and/or if it may trigger you.  
> The title is from Sad by Maroon 5  
> 1-800-273-TALK (8255) is the national suicide prevention hotline  
> (text HELLO to 741741 is how you get to the crisis text line  
> Please seek help and do not be afraid to talk if you are having these thoughts.

Sitting down was almost a chore as he prepared to do what could possibly come back to haunt him for years. There was something almost strange in knowing that you could be the cause of your own demise. That the cease of the existence of your own self, the very way that you interact with the world, the fucking meat sack that your skeleton was piloting, all of it, you were about to end. Now, Technoblade knew, he knew, okay, that there were other options available, but all of them seemed so tiring as if to not even matter to himself. The thought of even going to get his phone to let anyone, anyone, know what he was doing to himself seemed to feel his bones with lead. Of course, he knew that his family would do whatever they could to help him, that they would worry so much, but it all seemed so very tiring to the teen. As he laid himself down in the bathtub, water barely grazing the walls of it, he refused to allow himself time to think any longer. He knew that if he focused on what he was doing, his mind would psyche himself out and freak his shit out too much to carry on. Plus, he had already gone through all the trouble to strip himself down to just boxers, basketball shorts, and a tank top.  
Can you even begin to understand how much energy just those simple tasks took, especially to the pink-haired male? If you didn’t then know that it took a fuckton of energy and it still took him near hours to accomplish. Just something that simple being so draining was almost pathetic and made him pity himself anymore. That was why he couldn’t tell his family, no matter what, he was the only one allowed to pity himself. Not to mention that Techno had had to go through all the trouble of getting a knife and a bottle of Tylenol, trying to match the arrow on the lid to the arrow on the bottle, and trying to piece everything together. It was a draining process, okay! Took way too much time and effort, but he knew that he would soon have no need for time nor for effort. Most preferably because he would be dead, but he would take a coma as well. Just anything to stop himself from having to wake up and trudge on with his day, to stop others from judging him, and especially to no longer attempt, fail, but still attempt, to not disappoint his family. 

However, despite what you motherfuckers may think, Techno knew that they would miss him and that no one really wanted him to die. That didn’t matter to him though. He felt like he was getting off track with his thoughts, speaking to no one. He knew that he had to have limited time, despite the lack of a clock in the room. Techno had his phone taken away a few days ago due to slipping grades, with Phil at his wit’s end and hoping to god that just removing distractions would help improve his son’s schoolwork. No such luck though, what with his ADHD and y’know, possible depression. Thinking more about it, he definitely had depression, but you know what they say about assuming. Well no actually, he did not, in fact, know what they said about assuming but the phrase had been said enough times to him that he felt as if it had been nailed, screwed, hell, even superglued to the front of his fucking brain and that it just kept repeating and repeating and repeating, to the point that it made him want to blow his own brains out. He’s getting off track here. He didn’t come to this room and wear summer clothing and barely fill the bathtub up just to blow his brains out. He came here to go out in a, preferably, much quieter way.

Well, now or never, Techno thought to himself. Guess he’s about to become a sacrifice to himself. ‘Blood for the Blood God.’ As if almost viewing himself in the third person, he sat down in the tub, grabbed the knife from the ground, and grabbed the pill bottle with it. Realistically he knew that he really only had to do one, but when was he ever the type to half-ass things that he was dedicated to. Now, things he didn’t care about, those were a majorly different story. As he lifted his hand to the cap of the pill bottles to pop it off, he dimly noticed that it was shaking, though he couldn’t truly fathom why. After all, why should he feel anxious about the one thing that could possibly bring him peace. As soon as the cap was off, he silently cringed as he shoved some pills down his throat, noting that since he hadn’t brought a glass of water, he would have to use the water of the bathtub. He closed his mouth and brought his hands down to cup the water, opening his mouth again, pouring the water in, and forcing himself to swallow. He repeated it a few times before it hurt too much to do so. His throat really just hurt like a motherfucker and he didn’t think that he would be able to do it again. He was dry heaving, shaking so bad that it hurt, but he still had to power through. 

He knew that he would probably get the job done just fine via the pills, but Techno really wanted to just cross his i’s and dot his t’s y’know. Yes, he was well aware that wasn’t the expression but he wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind to know that. Shakily, he grabbed the knife and lifted it to his inner thigh as he brought his leg up, the basketball shorts falling down easily. He didn’t know where he had seen this before, but he knew that he had seen something where there was some sort of major artery on the top of his inner left thigh. Now if this was true or not, he really didn’t know, but he figured if he sliced deep enough anywhere, then it would get the job done. Pressing down, he foggily noted that he could hear the sound of a door opening somewhere in the house, most likely the front door. Well, if that wasn’t an incentive, then who knows what was. Hurriedly, he pressed the knife down, putting all the strength he could into cutting as deep as possible, as quickly as possible. Blood started gushing out.

As he stared at it, he could only dully note how pretty it seemed, the bright red of the blood contrasting with the pasty skin of his inner thigh. Damn did he need to get out more when he was still alive. With his entire body shaking harshly, even with the blurry state of his mind he was aware of the person talking outside, he was even more aware of the fact that he did not have enough strength to do that again. Thinking admittedly well in such a panicked mind, he lifted his other leg into the air, set the knife sharp-side up below into, and just let his leg go limp. If he didn’t already have enough incentive to just die, this sure drove him right the fuck over the edge. He was aware of the panicked shouts from outside the door along with the banging on it, knowing well enough that he had made some noises, most likely full of pain, in the process of bringing himself peace. He heard a cracking sound as the pain started overwhelming him and his processing abilities basically shutting off. He passed out in that tub, family calling the paramedics, as they flipped their shit. Huh, guess he was right about them being panicked if he tried to off himself, interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this! please refer to the notes back at the top if you are thinking of committing suicide, I promise you that it's not worth it and if you really need to talk to someone you can message me, even though I'm a stranger behind the screen, and I will try to help!
> 
> my discord is ;  
> jab ig #9681
> 
> my discord server is ;  
> https://discord.gg/Y93sSqnAnG


End file.
